Roses Are White
by twinkiezzz
Summary: “Crazy for saying yes to your proposal in the first place!” I called back. “Nicholas, we are going to find that young man, if you don’t mind. We are going to find Edward Cullen.”


Hey guys! Sorry I've sort of taken a side trip from Bella's Awakening. This is a one shot. Don't pester me for more, please. More would be my other stories, like "My Immortal." Thank you! I do not mean to offend the author or any sensitive reader. All I am doing is writing my gosh-darn story. Enjoy!

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**Roses Are White**

"Miss Bella, Miss Bella, please. Miss Bella we have to hurry. The wedding is in five hours."

"Sorry, Anne. I suppose I am just tired today. Tell you what, why don't we go to a restaurant first, get you and I filled up, and then we could go to the dressmaker's place." I smiled at her kindly. Anne was definitely in her forties, at the least. The tone of her skin varied from light tan to dark brown, and her wrinkles formed small waves on her forehead. She tried to cover up the expression the urgency that was on her mind, despite the fact that she knows Miss Bella would always make the right decisions. After all, _I_ was the bride.

I did not feel the need to rush. Matthew and I have only been seeing each other for a little over a year. He was a successful lawyer; me, a world-famous fashion designer and also the trademark model for my brand name – Forever Rose.

I chose the word "rose" mainly because of the way roses smell. The sweet scent of honey and tea lulls me back to my younger and more innocent years, the best years of my life. The closest reminder of my one true love. I do not cry at his departure any longer. Instead, as I have aged, I grew to love him again, more and more, and for him I started my career in fashion. My instability and klutziness have vanished through my metamorphosis; from the bulb of an unsteady sprout blossomed my very first flower, and out of the millions of beautiful, exotic flowers, I have chosen to bloom as the white rose for his remembrance.

Every article of clothing, every wedding gown I design, I make for him. I work several months on only one piece of the dress itself, changing whether the sleeves or the shade of color, thinning the waistline, fluffing up the rims – until the dress would be another one I would wear to my wedding with Edward. I thought of him an inspiration to my success, to my luxury.

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"Miss Bella, we have no time. There is only three hours until the wedding starts. We have to go back to the hotel this instant." I was cut off from my thoughts. We have arrived to the most expensive hotel in all of France. I sighed with relief as I looked out the window and took in the scenery. The cement road led to a small marble sidewalk, which encircled a magnificent fountain with two baby cherubs dreaming dazedly at the tip where the water sprouts out.

It was always such a pleasure to be here, especially at the garden, where the mixed scents of different species of flowers fill the garden with liveliness and elation. I often go there to calm myself down, or to be left alone. Though the garden is for everyone, I claim it as the place where I share my secrets with, the place where I can lose my age and play as a little girl would, the place that cheers me up when I feel alone and depressed.

"I am right behind you, Anne." Slowly, I set my feet out of the sleek black limousine. I gestured for the chauffer to drive to the front of the hotel, and stepped elegantly towards the spinning glass door.

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"All is ready, Miss Bella. Now you can check for anything missing in the bathroom mirror. There is less than half an hour until the wedding starts. Do hurry please!" my maid escorted me out of the dressing room and into the master bathroom. When we reached the door of the bathroom, I told her that I wanted some private time to myself, and some time to think the wedding over. The maid made a worried face, curtsied, and left me.

Without thinking, I locked the door behind me and slowly made my way to the mirror. What I saw shocked myself. I stared at the woman in the mirror for ten minutes without blinking. What has makeup done to my face? I am not Bella Swan, not the Bella Edward Cullen used to love so much. Who am I? I don't deserve to be so beautiful. My flaws have disappeared, and my originally pale skin was light golden in color. My slender body only grew more slender, and my legs were long, my skin smooth. My hair was dyed brownish blonde and waved at the ends. The mascara my makeup artist applied on my eyelashes magnified my eyes, making me look like a life size Barbie doll. All of this was just too much for me to bear. Where are you Edward, my love? What have I become without you? This was not the resolution I chose to have. A tear trickled down my cheek. I didn't want to marry another man. I love you. I tried but failed to keep my feelings deep inside. Eight full years of sorrow and angst poured down my cheeks.

I needed a place to escape to. Quickly. I tore out of the bathroom and rushed out the giant spinning door, trying the best I can to avoid losing balance with my high heels. After what had seemed a millennium, I arrived to my haven, this lovely garden, where I dropped onto a marble bench and did all that a hopeless woman could do. I wept.

I wept for Edward, I wept for me. I wept for all of the love lost the day that he silently walked away. I have not cried for so long I did not know how to cry. My whole body trembled, but through my throaty sobs and my hiccups I managed to hear a soft voice speak to me.

"Please don't cry, mad' am. Crying is bad for you. It makes you look ugly, that's what my mama always told me. Mad' am, you look mighty pretty, too pretty to be here sobbing all day long. Look at your pretty white dress. You'll get it dirty by sitting on this dirty marble bench."

I looked up at his face slowly, trying to calm my hiccups and force a smile at the same time.

"Now, little boy, what do you know about crying?" I questioned, my throat like sandpaper.

"When someone cries, it makes others around her sad, too, and they would also want to cry." I examined him fully now. He was the type of boy a middle class family would raise up. His long, dark brown hair contrasted with his light milky skin, and his grey eyes were looking deep into mine as he spoke.

"Fair enough," I smiled. "I won't cry anymore." Then I noticed the white roses in his arms. "Why are you carrying all these flowers?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

He seemed to forget that he was holding them. With a horrified look in his eyes, he yelled, "Mighty Lord! Sorry, mad' am, but I have to go deliver these flowers to a lady called Miss Bella. Her wedding is today. I can't waste another minute!" and started to leave.

"Wait! Little boy, come back, the wedding is not until another three hours, please stay. I have questions to ask you." He looked relieved, turned around, and stared at me curiously.

"What do you have to ask?"

"What is your name?"

"Nicholas." His eyes grew suspicious.

"Who made you deliver such a big bunch of roses?"

"I don't know," he wondered. "I was walking down the streets this morning, and a young man came up to me and told me to deliver them to a lady named Bella Swan. He gave me one hundred Francs!" He grinned proudly as he reached into his pocket and showed me the money.

I was shocked.

"Was he pale?"

"I couldn't tell. He was wearing an awful lot of clothes. It's mighty weird for him to wear so much on such a warm day."

This is it. A new ray of hope shone down from heaven and showered my face with warmth that I have missed for so long. I'm going to go find him, no matter where he is.

"Thank you, Nicholas. The roses would be mine. My name is Bella Swan. I am getting married today."

"You're Bella Swan?" He looked amazed. "Well, here you go, then." He handed me the bunch sheepishly. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell earlier. See, I told you crying makes you uglier."

I smiled. "Am I still ugly?"

He blushed and looked down, kicking the dirt with his new leather shoes. "No. I think you're very pretty. I would be happy if I was your groom. Why are you crying if you're getting married?"

"Because," I explained patiently, "I do not want to marry this man. I want to marry the man who gave me these beautiful white roses." I put my nose to the petals and inhaled lightly.

"Excuse me, Bella, but we have to go. I finally found you." Matthew suddenly strolled to my side. "What is this? A date?" He chuckled to himself and pulled me towards the car that has recently driven up to the garden. I resisted with all of my strength. "Bella," he sounded exasperated, "do you want to get married or not?"

The decision was made.

"No." was my cold answer. I took Nicholas's hand and walked the opposite direction.

"Bella! You're crazy!"

"Crazy for saying yes to your proposal in the first place!" I called back. "Nicholas, we are going to find that young man, if you don't mind. We are going to find Edward Cullen."

And we were out of the gate.


End file.
